Aetas Proxima
by devoutchristhayer
Summary: Look what you've done! One minute you're jumping into a portal to Sovngarde, and the next minute you're at a concrete wall spanning the Colorado! How are you going to stop Alduin now? -Part One of the Crawford Trilogy, a segment in the Psyjiic Disciples Series-
1. Chapter 1

**Note - This story is completed, though any plans to continue it (as in a sequel) are indefinably moot, due to my disatisfaction with pacing and character development. Enjoy.**

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Fire burst out from the sweaty palms of the Nordic behemoth. The dead stumbled towards him, bellowing cheap imitations of his honed thu'um. As their axes swung through the air, his body swiveled backwards to avoid their range. Even without the retaliation he could bring forth the dragur were doomed. His senses were drowned with a smell of rotting flesh that wavered around the beasts like a dragon in a city. Despite his obvious advantage, he decided to end the battle then and there.

With the voices of his ancestors behind him, he shouted the now familiar phrase: "FUS RO DAH!"

The gust of unrelenting force seemed to blow the two apart like an explosion. The two undead went flying away, tumbling over the edges of the temple. Recovering his balance, he began to walk forward. He looked over the edge of the drop-off beside the stairs, and realized how high up the temple reached.

This hero was no regular hero. Just over a year ago, he discovered he was the foretold Dragonborn. Though he had accomplished more along the way, such as joining the Companions and taking charge of the College of Winterhold, his life for much of the past year had been spent scouring Skyrim for Words of Power in order to prepare for the fight against Alduin, the world-eater.

He gazed back. The temple of Skuldafn lay in shambles, littered with the carcasses of dragurs and two dragons. The sun was setting over the mountains back west, and as he breathed in the fumes of the world, he felt that it was for someone…

Shaking off the feelings of death, he continued upward along the outdoor stairs. He stumbled as the staircase edge collapsed beneath him. It was merely a small section of the steps, so he was fine, though he silently cursed the ancients, Nords and Dwermer alike. He had faced death on far too many occasions in those accursed crypts.

As he made his way up the final stairs, he found himself at the base of a large, flat arena-like platform. Around it was the open air, allowing a potential enemy to be forced off the side, much like the dragurs earlier. He focused his attention towards the center of the temple peak, and saw the column of light bursting through the stone. A floating figure was in front of the portal, with his back to the Dovahkiin. The sky, blackened, almost began to swirl with what seemed like anticipation. The figure, seeming to sense the hero, turned.

The Dragonborn's fist tightened as he saw what it was. He had faced them. The undead remnants of the dragon's allies: the Dragon Priests. Before him stood Nahkriin.

Nahkriin hissed, and the hero proclaimed, "Meet your demise, Lord of Death, for your kind have fallen to me, Michel Reynald, before. You shall not be the last."

In response, the foe raised his staff and lightning roared from the tip. The Dovahkiin raised a ward, shattering the spell where it stood. Moving his feet like a swordsman, Michel circled the Dragon Priest, launching balls of fire towards him. Much like what happened to him, the enemy deflected all of the flames with ease.

As Nahkriin sired a Master Spell, Michel darted behind a stone pillar on the edge of the platform. Fire jetted beside him, separated by the pillar. Michel cursed the enemy. He could defeat most warriors with ease, though mages occasionally gave him difficulty, due to their ability to block spells. Quickly attempting to analyze the situation, his eyes darted to his dagger and his bow. He had never been one for stealth, having quickly reported the Thieves' Guild when they had approached him, but held onto a dagger just in case. He retrieved his bow, and held an arrow in hand.

Attempting to see his enemy, he peered around the pillar.

Nothing. Nahkriin was gone.

Michel turned around, attempting to gain a view left of the pillar. In the instant he turned Nahkriin took hold of Michel's undershirt, peeking out from atop his armor-plate. The skeletal hand dug into his chest and a chain of lightning burst into him.

Acting out of instinct, the bow fell from his hand and the now free palm burst into a ray of golden magicka, continuously healing him. He tightened his right hand around the arrow and thrust his arm forward into the foe's chest. It plunged through him, only stopping when Michel's palm hit the beast's chest. An echo of screams travelled through Skuldafn.

Michel took the opportunity of Nahkriin's weakness, and reached for his dagger. He yanked it from his belt loop, and sank it into the Dragon Priest's face. As he howled in agony, the mask shattered and body began to disintegrate.

The Dragonborn exhaled. He gathered himself and approached the portal, still glowing in anticipation of him entering. Once he was sure he had prepared himself, with potions and enchantments ready, he walked forward.

Winds circled around him as the world turned white.

Suddenly, he hit the ground against a dirty plain of stone. Sand circled around him and the ground against his cheek vibrated every moment in a roar of explosions. As he stood up, pellets began to whiz by him and he dove for cover.

Over the ledge to his right a grey wall of stone that spanned the course of the river far below. As screams and explosions bellowed from every direction, his mind began to twirl. Surely this land of Oblivion could not be Sovngarde!

He turned back to see warriors battling across the field of rock. Everything seemed different. The stone was the most clear-cut construction he had seen. Even the White Gold Tower had points where stone stuck out, yet this was only damaged by acts of war. And the weapons they possessed were swords of black that spat bullets of fire. The armor was different based on the armies, with one being men of tan suits he didn't recognize, and the other being men that resembled Imperials to an extent.

From around the corner of an outpost, one of the Imperial-like men spotted him, and began to charge forward, machete rose. Michel reacted quickly, thrusting his hands forward to unleash fire to the man. Though as he did this the man continued… for no fire came.

The sword slashed towards Michel, and he quickly side-stepped out of its reach. His hand spun in a circle as he grasped his dagger and plunged it into the back of the enemies' neck.

Reacting to the gunfire from behind him, he dove towards cover, near the tan soldiers. Despite his escape from the metal men, he saw the tan-armored soldiers surround him, their weapons pointed at him.

Michel's head was on a swivel, attempting to locate the officer of the squad through some form of distinction in his armor. When he was spotted, Michel opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

The officer pointed his weapon to Michel and screamed, "Weapon down and hands behind yer' head, asshole!"

The Dragonborn immediately complied, afraid of the new weapons only slightly. He was more curious than anything else, and wished to learn what was happening from the man.

"Who the hell are you, scrub?!" the officer yelled, pulling Michel behind cover as his men got back to fighting the war. Michel observed that the man was rather curious about his armor and arrows.

"Michel Reynold, son of Talos' Legion and the Dragonborn," he told the man. "And you?"

The man had a grizzly beard and a toothpick between his teeth. His ears curved backwards, and almost seemed to twitch when he spoke. "Name's Jaytom Rogers. Was 'er commander 'round the Hub durin' the raids back in '74. Now, I don' know what this 'ole Legion talk is about, but you better be shittin' me if it's 'bout them bastards," he spit, pointing at the enemy.

Michel turned to look back, and shook his head.

Jaytom nodded and asked, "Where you from, boy?"

"My mother hails from High Rock, though my father is a Nord of Skyrim," he answered.

"Well look alive, boy," the officer told him. "Yer' in the Mojave now, future territory of the NCR."

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**If you enjoy the story, favorite/follow/review. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

As gunfire rained behind the clay wall that the soldiers used as cover, the officer lent the Dragonborn a hand inside one of the forts. Taking time to examine his armor, he found similar aspects to the pieces that the Imperials wear, though theirs seemed to be reinforced by some material in the insides. Also, strapped across his chest was a large peculiar sword. He had seen others with these, and from what he could tell they spat fire… or propelled metal at amazing speed. If not for the fact that he wasn't able to shout, he would swear it was sorcery.

Figuring that he had been quiet long enough, he screamed over the explosions, "In what province is the Mojave?!"

"Province?" the officer replied. "Well, techinally, this little scrap of land isn't NCR yet. But this battle could change that. With Mr. House dead, it seems like whoever wins the dam will take seize. That's why we have to stop Caesar… Or he'll have his Rome."

Perplexed, the Dragonborn asked, "I've never heard of the NCR? Is it part of the Mede Empire? And what sorcery is…"

As he said this, an airborne object, almost like a metal bird, soared overheard. The soldiers quickly began to take cover within their forts, as missiles rained down onto the concrete. Fire spread across the ground, killing men with miniature explosions.

"Was that a dragon of some sort?!" the Nord screamed.

The officer looked at the hero, and putting his hand on his shoulder, asked, "Where the fuck are you from?"

"I'm a Nord by birth, but I serve General Tulius of the Mede Empire. I was attempting to stop the world-eater, Alduin, before I transported to this place. Do you happen to know the way to Sovngarde?" the Dovakiin asked.

"Look, you little shit; I don't have time for your fanboy problems. I don't know who this Tulius is, but unless you want me to splatter your guts all over the desert you're helping General Oliver!" the officer said. "I'm Mane, and those fuckers over there are Caesar's Legion. Bunch of medieval wack-jobs who want this dam. Here, take a gun, and start fighting!"

As Officer Mane turned to face his enemy, the Dragonborn got his attention, and asked, "How do I go about using this?"

Mane's face was dumbstruck, and he quickly instructed him on the basics of firing a weapon. The Dragonborn, perhaps a stickler for his fighting style, put the gun to the ground, and drew his Daedric Bow. As the Dovakiin pulled the strings back, aimed at the Legion, Mane asked, "Who are you, son?"

The arrow went flying through the air, and through and out the other side of a Legion head. "Name's Reynald," the Dragonborn said. "Michel Reynald."

Mane nodded, and quickly sprang forward, jumping over the chest-high-wall. Spraying his ammunition into the battlefield seemed to work just fine for him, as Legionaries retreated behind their cover.

Michel, in the mean time, climbed a top a fort, and leaped to the next one, where the Legionaries were hiding behind or in. From the skies, he rained arrows down on the Legion men, just feet away from him. As the enemy dropped like flies, the NCR began to advance.

A surge of tan soldiers moved forward, ready to fight against the Roman onslaught. Behind them, a large rushing of Securitrons followed. The Dragonborn, curious, turned back to meet the army.

As he ran back towards them, they stopped, and unleashed a rain of gunfire upon him. He dropped to the ground, covered by the dead bodies already in place in front of him. Remembering Mane's previous order to put his hands in the air, he stood with hands raised.

The Securitrons took it as a sign of surrender, apparently, and they slowly advanced around him. From within the crowd of metal, he spotted a human giving commands. Unequipping his bow, he rushed forward to meet the extraordinary individual.

"Soldier, where is your provided armor?" the human asked.

As Michel approached the person, he was surprised to see it was a woman. Though Legate Rikke was in charge of a sizable portion of the Imperial force, he hadn't expected another army would have the same circumstances.

"Who are you?" the Dragonborn asked.

"Fuck, where have you been. My name's Zoe, but people usually call me the Courier… Mrs. New Vegas… Miss Fortune. The list just goes on," she answered. "I'm an NCR citizen who just got lucky in the Mojave, so I've brought in outside help. Securitrons. Who are you?"

"I'm Michel Reynald, but most people just called me Dovakiin… Dragonborn… My list goes on even further," he answered with a snide tone of confidence.

"Well Reynald, let's how just how good you are." Taking his hand, she said, "Let's take Hoover Dam."

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**So, this is the second chapter. I'm planning on the beginning just being the Dragonborn (Michel) and the Courier (Zoe) taking the Dam, then it'll get into the real story. For those of you who have read my two other fics, then you know that those are the names I used for the Dragonborn and Courier in those stories too. However, the Courier is different in this fic, and if you read my other story, you'll see why.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, so sorry this took a week to get out. I just kind of got distracted, no real excuse. Anyway, this is the conclusion of the Battle of Hoover Dam. After this, we learn all sorts of things. Why is Michel in the Mojave? Why can't he use magic or shouts?**

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Michel Reynald watched in awe as the Zoe Clayworth, the apparently famed Courier, brought out two of those "gun" mechanisms, and fired rounds into multiple Legionaries. The NCR was quickly advancing as the Securitrons, which, in truth, reminded Michel of dwarven contraptions blew every ounce of resistance to pieces. The technology that was spread across the world was amazing to the Dragonborn, a simple mage from Rorikstead.

Multiple times during the battle, the Nord attempted to use his sorcery skills, though to no avail. Not even his shouts would work, which meant no dragon speech and no werewolf transformations.

Instead, he used his bow to take down enemies from a distance, quickly killing the ones that looked like commanding officers.

"How many Centurions have you taken down so far, Reynald?" the Courier yelled back to him, amazed at the men dropping like flies.

"None. I haven't seen any Centurions here, and I'd be surprised if I did. I doubt that the Dwermer inhabit this province!" the confused hero answered. Zoe made a mental note to herself to inform him later that Centurions were the Legion's commanding officers, just above the rank of Decanus.

As the duo made their way to the Legion camp, soldiers began to emerge like ants from their destroyed hill. The Courier quickly equipped her Cyberdog 9000 and began mowing through the front line of soldiers. Blood splattered across the ground, and the Dragonborn halted, and watched as the massacre happened.

As the enemy continued to fall to the ground in an orchestrated dance, the soldiers stopped pouring from the main gate. Instead, spears began to be propelled from the stands above. Grasping his bow, the Dragonborn took a moment to aim and let go of his arrow.

The thin stick of wood sprang from his bow, and hit a spear in mid-air, sending it off in another direction, away from Zoe. Turning ninety degrees, he shot two more, sending them threw the Legionaries' heads. Switching out her heavy weapon, the Courier equipped a small hand gun, by the likes of which Michel hadn't seen yet.

"Is that a gun, Zoe?"

"Yeah," she responded, quickly punching a magazine into the chamber, "It's called Maria. Got it from some ass wipe named Benny."

Michel nodded, and Zoe motioned him to move forward. The duo sprinted forward, rushing into the main gate.

The inside was somewhat impressive. As expected, the Dragonborn saw many cots, though they appeared to stuff, or at least inflated, that were covered by fabric tents. These were poorer displays of what he had seen while part of the Imperial Legion. Beyond him, was a rocky plateau that had a larger tent resting upon it.

Some resistance emerged from the base, though it was quickly put down by the two, as they made their way to the tent. The world seemed to go quiet, as Zoe screamed out, "Come out, Lanius. History is about to repeat itself today. Another Legate is going to fail."

From the depths of the tent, emerged a giant, roughly seven feet tall, clothed in golden, imperial armor. A red cape draped his backside, and a magnificent sword – The Blade of the West – was equipped along his belt. His face, however, was covered, with a depiction of a golden god, fully adorned with detail and precision. The giant, apparently Legate Lanius, drew his blade, and pointed it skyward.

Bringing his arm down, to meet the two, he proclaimed, "We shall see how confident you are when you are pinned to side of Hoover Dam, hanging there just long enough to see the sun set, and your world slowly die before your eyes!"

While Zoe remained silent, Michel Reynald stepped forward to look the monster in the eye… er, mask. Drawing his bow, and pointed it to the sky, imitating the Legate, he brought it to meet him, and countered with, "_My_ world is untouchable!"

Lanius leaped forward, quickly swinging his blade towards Michel. Ducking just in time, the Blade of the West flew over his face, and he heard a loud gun fire from behind him. The Legate roared in pain, as a bullet went through his shoulder. Though instead of falling dead down like the others, he ran at Zoe, swinging the sword at her. She brought her torso back to dodge it, and he kicked her leg. Screaming, Zoe fell to the ground in pain. As Legate Lanius raised his sword to deliver the final blow, the Dragonborn drew an arrow.

A whish of air swept to Lanius, and the arrow protruded through a small opening in the back of his armor, right where his armor and his mask connected. Breaking through his skin, the arrow flew out the other side of his neck, breaking his atom's apple.

Blood spurt forth from the Legate's throat, as he grasped it in agony. The Dragonborn kicked him on the ground, and a pile of blood began to seep into the dirt. In an act of pity, the Dragonborn raised his foot and brought it down the Legate's head, crushing his skull.

"… and so am I," the Dovakiin said.

"I gotta hand it to you, Michael…" Zoe began.

"Michel," he corrected.

"You did well. Come on, let's go finish off the remains outside, and then I can bring you back to New Vegas. We've got a lot to talk about," she told him.

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**Please review, favorite, follow, or whatever you do. Reviewing would be best. Those keep me going, thanks!**


	4. Chapter 4

Michel sat back in the velvet armchair. Though he had seen cushions like this in such places like the Blue Palace or the Thalmar Embassy, the chairs that existed in his world were usually hard stone or crude sticks of wood tied together. Michel didn't usually like to sit down, or drink for that matter. The last time he went in a tavern he had ended up in a chase across Skyrim, searching the Daedric Lord Sanguine. But today, after perhaps the largest, and bloodiest, battle he had ever encountered, it seemed appropriate.

The city beyond the balcony in front of him was sparkling with lights and civilians, parties and prostitutes. If he couldn't find a way to get to Sovngarde, this would be quite an adjustment from Skyrim. He couldn't understand how lights could exist without flames, or how metal could propel those little silvery things with such speed and force. Every time he had attempted to explain those phenomena he kept falling back to creations of the Dwermer, though he hadn't seen anything of that caliber while in Aftlan, or magic.

But from what he could tell, or what everyone kept telling him, magic didn't exist here. Michel wasn't uneducated. Being the Archmage of the College, he knew that mages drew the source of their power from the left over energy of Magnus that is still connected to the plane of Nirn. But the people here had never heard of the Aedra, or any sort of planes. They referred to their dwelling place as the planet Earth, sharing space with everything else, not cut off like the explanations he was used to.

Raising his hand, he attempted to summon fire from his palm again, but to no avail. There had to be some way to use magic, he reasoned. This place had to be a plane, or else how would he have teleported here through a portal, much like the way a person can teleport to Oblivion. If he could focus, he should be able to harness his power… but, nothing!

"You trying to melt the cup again, Mr. Reynald?" he heard from behind him.

And there was yet another thing he couldn't explain. The smiling Securitron came up behind him to retrieve his glass, and asked, "Is there anything you need, sir?"

"Could you get Zoe, Yes Man?" he asked the contraption.

"Already here, Michel," the Courier said as she approached the back of his chair. Placing her hands firmly on his shoulders, she bent down so her face was near his and asked, "What do you need?"

"I need your help. Do you have anything that could transport me somewhere?"

"Are you still on this whole dragon thingy?" she asked him.

"The fate of Tamriel depends on it!" he retorted.

"Listen, buddy, don't talk to me about places east of the Legion, because I've never been there. If you want to get somewhere far away, the only thing I could give you would be my Big Mountain Transportalponder," she told him.

"It can get me to my plane?"

"There you go again, with these planes. What the hell are those things? You talking about states or something?" she asked him.

"Planes are realms through which things live in and can travel to, if you have the conjuration skills necessary to do so. I come from the plane of Nirn, and was about to go to Sovngarde… or so I thought. Does this place have any connections with heroes?" he asked her.

"Heroes? This is the wasteland. It's dog eat dog. The only heroes of any sort were the Vault Dweller and the Chosen One, but the Vault Dweller's been dead for decades. He did his deeds over a hundred years ago, in 2161," she told him. "There may be some over-glorified mercenaries out there, but if you're talking about fantasy heroes with sword and shield, fighting against dragons, you may be the closest thing we've got, assuming you're not mad."

Choosing to ignore that comment, the Dragonborn said, "You mentioned a Chosen One?"

"Him? He was operational some forty years ago in northern California. From what I here, he's still alive. Rules over the city of Arroyo – capital of a state in the NCR," she told him.

"The NCR?" he spoke aloud. Zoe and her army fought with the NCR at the dam, but after they took out the Legate, the Courier had turned against the NCR, and told them to leave. When they refused, Yes Man had thrown the General off the side of Hoover Dam. "What have I done? I might've just ruined my chances of getting home!"

"What? How does seeing this Chosen One fellow improve your chances of getting to Sovngarde?"

"Heroes go to Sovngarde when they die! If he's in Arroyo, and he's a hero, that city might just be where I can find Alduin!" he explained.

The Courier laughed, and asked him, "You think Arroyo is where you can find your dragon?"

"Yes. That city has to be Sovngarde!"

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**So here's where we get to the quest. For those of you who aren't true Fallout fans, and haven't played the original games, the Chosen One is the player character in Fallout 2. He becomes the village elder in Arroyo and it is eventually integrated into the NCR. Now, in Skyrim, Nordic heroes go to Sovngarde, so Michel thinks that if this guy's a hero, Arroyo has to be Sovngarde.**

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	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, so I'm guessing by now you know that I don't have any schedule when it comes to uploading. It's been a week since chapter 4, but I promise to have 6 up by Monday.**

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Michel Reynald prepared for his journey northeast, into the NCR. All of the necessary precautions had been taken. He had had his armor restored to full condition, as well as gotten some handy new items that would help him travel. He had been told that he could not stop at his leisure and drink from the rivers, for they would make him sick and die, so instead he had been given transparent bottles with which he hold all his liquid. He had also been given a large pack that would hold all his food, and, as a fare well gift the Courier had given him the generous donation of one thousand caps, which, to his understanding, had the same use as septims.

As he departed from the Lucky 38 building, he breathed in the unforgiving irradiated air, and, not for the last time, quivered with fear of a world like this. With all his wits, he could not imagine why the portal would lead him here. Hadn't the battle he had encountered at Skuldafn been enough? Two dragons? Dead warriors? A dragon priest? Why give the exhausted hero another obstacle to overcome.

He shook himself off, thinking of the riches he would receive at news of his return. He would be a hero throughout the province of Skyrim, immortalized like such heroes as the Hero of Kvatch or the Nerevarine. Perhaps, being the dragonborn, he might even restore the Septim Bloodline, though he knew that this was incredibly wishful thinking.

As he took his first steps, he heard the Courier shout from behind him, "Michel, wait!"

He turned to greet the girl, and asked, "What concern do you have?"

"Nothing really, you buzz kill. Just though you would at least offer me to come along and help you on your… quest, or whatever," she told him.

"No offense should be taken," he told her, "but I'm not really sure I want you coming with me. This mission is mine to bear alone. I had to leave Marcurio in Dragonsreach anyhow, and he is my closest friend."

"Listen, Michel, I don't know any guy named Marcurio, but he sounds like some sort of fucking court jester, and those clowns died out hundreds of years ago," she said dryly. "I just don't want to sit here and deal with the politics that going to swimming around. Better leave that to Arcade." Michel chuckled, remembering the man calling himself a scientist. "I like the wastes more than the big lights, and I've always wanted to see Arroyo."

"You mean Sovngarde?" he asked her.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever. Can I go?" she said quickly. Michel sighed, and nodded reluctantly. After all, this girl knew more of the geography than he did, and which people would be friend and foe.

The two set off outside the gate, not talking. A couple residents dressed in what appeared to be undergarments came up to Zoe, thanking her for her service to Freeside, and handing her some food or ammunition, though Michel chose to ignore it. In fact, when she tried to stop and talk to the Followers before leaving, he kept walking.

Zoe caught up to him, at first mad that he left, but then just stayed quiet.

After numerous days of travel, Zoe stopped and told him to change out of his armor. The curious hero responded, asking her, "Why? This is worth thousands of septims, and is enchanted with the…"

She cut him off, telling him, "We're a days south of Shady Sands, the capital of the NCR and the biggest city in the world. It has 10,000 people, so it should be easy to lay low, but you're going to stick out like a sore thumb with that crap on. You'll get yourself killed, or worse, captured. Anyways, we're going to start encountering caravans any hour now."

Reluctantly, the Nord took off the armor and put it away into the sack that she had given him. As he removed his chest plate, and pulled his shirt over his head, he caught Zoe looking at him, and asked, "What? Is there something wrong?"

She laughed to herself, and went behind a rock to change.

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	6. Chapter 6

Like Zoe had told him, it didn't take long before the pair starting seeing caravans and travelers exited and entering the city. Though the quality of the buildings wasn't the best, the site was truly one to behold for both the pair of them. Even the Imperial City, which boasted the largest population in Tamriel, was nothing compared to this feat.

The security was different from the cities in Skyrim by one main difference – there was actual security. The law permitted that you have your weapons concealed at all times, or you would immediately be fired upon. Zoe warned him to take that law seriously, because all of the military police guards were wearing either NCR Ranger Armor or Salvaged Power Armor, and in addition to this they either had plasma or laser weapons, two guns that he had been warned could turn you to ash.

The two went through the city rather quickly however, at first. They would stop by a merchant shop and buy some food, making sure it had as little radiation as possible. Many people had built up a resistance to irradiated substances in their lives, though, if what the Dragonborn said was really true, then he would have no resistance whatsoever. That being said, Zoe didn't actually believe him…

"How much longer until we reach Sovngarde?" he asked her again. The Courier sighed in an almost exasperated, over dramatic fashion. Michel was usually fine to be around – great, actually – but his determinism to find this mystical land of milk, honey, and world eating dragons sometimes got annoying.

"I don't know, Michel," she told him. "I've never been north of New Reno before, but from what I hear it's a utopia out there. Even bigger than New Vegas, and that's saying something."

"Is Sovngarde…" he began to ask.

"Just call it Arroyo, 'k? We don't want people to think we're nuts," she told him.

"Is Arroyo bigger than this place?" he asked her, gesturing to Shady Sands around him. The two took a moment to stop and look around. The city had electrical lights and running water, pretty rare out there in the Wasteland.

"No," she told him, and the two continued through the city, buying out stores for supplies. They were close to the end of their stops, when the two decided to go into a bar, which, to Zoe's annoyance, Michel kept referring to as a tavern.

"What kind of a name is Tandi Saloon?" he asked her. "If you ever get to Whiterun, make sure to visit the Bannered Mare. Best mead in all of Skyrim."

At the counter, Michel asked for some mead, to which the bartender just laughed. Instead, Zoe told the man, "Two Nuka-Colas. Cold, if you have them."

After going to the back, the man returned with two of the familiar glass bottles. Zoe popped the caps open, and stuffed them into her pockets, and then handed the bottle to Michel.

"What is it?" he asked, curiously.

She responded with the simple phrase and a smile, "Just drink it, Dragon Boy."

As the drink ran down his throat he tasted something he could not describe. He attempting to relate it to something, but no other taste came to mind. The cold beverage was unlike anything he had encountered in Skyrim. Sure, the river water was cold, though all the ales and meads were always room temperature. It was quite amazing… How did they keep it from getting warm?

Feeling like it was his duty to do this – Michel did this to every bartender – he asked, "So, does any work need doing throughout this hold? Or should I go see the Jarl?"

The bartender gave him a weird look, and asked, "What the hell is Jarl?"

"Oh," the Dragonborn said with a smile, "Do you have military governors to watch over your cities?"

"Listen, buddy," he said. "I don't know what you're talking about, but if you really want adventure, I can suggest something. Why don't you go and try to find Vault 13."

"Haha," Zoe said sarcastically.

"I don't know why that's amusing Zoe, though would you like to try and find Vault 13?" the hero asked her.

"Michel," she told him. "That guy was just being sarcastic. No one's stepped foot inside Vault 13 for forty years. If you really want to find it, then go ask the Chosen One in Arroyo. He was the guy who found it."

"Fantasic!" said the hero, getting edgy after not doing any quests, "Once we defeat Alduin I shall find this Vault 13!" He rose his glass into the air and began to shout in celebration. No one else joined in…

Zoe grabbed him back down to his chair, and said through gritted teeth, "Listen, dunce. I don't know why you think you're some sort of magician trying to find a fucking dragon, but you need to cut out of the act. It was amusing at first, but you're going to get yourself killed if you keep that up. Now listen, we're not going to add on a wild goose chase for Vault 13 while we're at it. Our job is to get to Arroyo and find the Chosen One. Got it?!"

The two exited the city soon after and made their way outside the gates to sleep until morning. They still had a long ways ahead of them.


	7. Chapter 7

**So, I was looking at all the Elder Scrolls / Fallout XC's, and this is the third most popular under that category (I'm talking about review-wise). So crank out one review every chapter, and maybe I can get to number one. Thank you so much!**

**You know, I bet no one even reads these anymore...**

**Boobs. Hehe**

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The two continued for the next couple of days northwest. Zoe told Michel that their next stop would be New Reno, and, if they were lucky, after that there shouldn't be any more stops until they reached the Chosen One. Michel had stopped talking about his quest so much since then, and had attempted to make himself talk and act more like the people around here.

He found that Zoe had been enjoying his company much more since then, and had even taken to asking him questions about Skyrim and his journeys, almost like she missed him talking about it… even if only a little.

After two weeks, Zoe was a little on edge. From the information that she acquired while Michel was off trying to find some drinking buddy he kept talking about… Sanguine, or something… she had been getting information from the caraveeners on how long the trip from Shady Sands to New Reno should take. From what they said, it should take between ten to fifteen days, depending on how much endurance you had. Zoe had been to the Vegas Doctor just east of the Crimson Caravans, and she knew that she had an Endurance of 8.

_We should be there by now_, she kept telling herself. They had started travelling closer to nighttime, because if New Reno was anything like Vegas, the lights would lead them there in the dark. But… nothing.

The light didn't appear until the seventeenth day on their journey. Just over the top of a small hill, Zoe could make out a glow that seemed to slither away into the darkness surrounding them. Michel was making noise, whether it be complaining about how there weren't any northern lights to guide them, or clanking around his in armor, when she heard it, and almost yelped in excitement at the sight of the faint glimmer.

"Do you see that Zoe?! The orbs! The orbs!" he began shouting, which at Zoe's understanding she took to mean what he called light bulbs.

The pair was low on provisions, and almost began running over the hill to greet the city. As soon as they crossed the incline, their faces shaped into those of disappointment.

In front of them was a bunch of NCR soldiers, fully equipped in their armor. They were setting up tents for the night, and had already built a fire in the center of their camp. The embers rose into the sky, making the glow that the two had seen. Of course they had heard Michel yelling about orbs, and some already had their weapons ready.

"'Aye, what're you two doing out here?" one soldier yelled to them.

Michel opened his mouth to speak, but Zoe quickly interrupted, saying, "We're trying to find our caravan group. Oh well, guess they're not here. Bye!"

Before she could turn around the soldier said, "Hey, hey. You two don't look like you're part of a caravan guard. How would one even get separated from a huge pack Brahmin anyway?"

"Uh… super mutant raid. Got bad, but we think there may be some survivors around these areas," she said. She appeared as if she going to say something else, though Michel's curiosity got the better of him.

"Sir, would you happen to know how we can get to New Reno?" he asked the man.

"That depends. What materials was your caravan bringing into the city? And how in the hell are you this far of course?" the soldier asked. Zoe looked nervously around, noticing that some other men had come to join the soldier, some gripping their guns. They must've known they were lying somehow. Shit, she knew she sucked with speech.

"Ammunes," the Dragonborn said, attempting to lie… too bad he didn't know how to say ammunition.

"He means ammo," Zoe quickly corrected.

The soldiers gave the Dragonborn a look up and down. "Now why are you wearing that funny git-up there, son? And what's with the bow and arrow. You won't stand a chance against super mutants like that."

Zoe discreetly began to reach to her pocket, preparing for the fight or detainment she knew was coming. Their story didn't add up, and anyone who lied to the military had reason to be detained. And considering she kicked the NCR out of the Mojave, she definitely had reason to be detained. Adding on to that, if they weren't lying, they were transporting materials into New Reno that super mutants would find interesting. That means guns, and everyone knows that the corrupt NCR government support Gun Runners, and are against other organizations.

"We better be going now," Zoe laughed. "So which way did you say New Reno was?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you're going to have to stay with us. Please relinquish all weapons and armor, and we'll set you up in a guarded tent," the soldier told her.

"Under which Jarl's order? I haven't committed crimes against Skyrim _or_ her people!" Michel argued, though no one listened.

"And if we refuse?" Zoe asked nervously, her hand clearly on her pistol now.

"Then we open fire on the both of you," the soldier told them.

"Drop your shit, Michel. We can't take on a whole squad point blank," she told him. As they dropped their weapons, and began to remove their armor, until they were only in their undergarments, she asked the soldier, "Ever been to Vegas?"

He gave her a look of disgust.

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**So our heroes are going to have a couple forks in the road before reaching Arroyo... If they do ever get there. But I promise this is going to be relevant to the overall story, and next chapter it puts any doubt of Michel's origins (meaning, "Is he really from Skyrim?") out of Zoe's mind.**

**PLEASE FAVORITE, FOLLOW, AND MOST OF ALL, REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

**So, here it is. This is chapter I was talking about. I'm glad people actually like my story, and I'm about halfway there to being tied with most reviews in the Fallout/Elder Scrolls XC category. Thank you so much for those of you that have taken the time to review. If you have any questions, I'll answer them from now on at the beginning of every chapter.**

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Michel sat furiously in his binds. He had been to prison before, in both Whiterun and Solitude, and in those cities he would usually use a lockpick to get himself out. If by some sort of misfortune, the pick broke, there was some sort of exploit, such as a sewer pipe in the floor, or a crumbling wall behind him. Yet, here he was, in the middle of this Aedra-forsaking desert with some picks, but not locks to break free.

Instead, he and Zoe sat in the middle of medium sized tent with their hands bond behind their backs. All of their armor and weapons had been taken, though Michel had managed to keep some picks. Zoe, knowing they wouldn't have come in use, hadn't bothered with the bobby pins.

Michel exhaled slowly, attempting to pray to the Divines in any and every way he knew how. While doing this, the soldier that had captured them came into the tent, holding a folder file, and smirking. In the light, Zoe was able to read the words clearly printed on his shirt: Lieutenant Rogers.

"Well," the Lieutenant said, "Seems as if I'm going to be a hero in a few days… Miss Clayworth."

Zoe's heart sank. Her cover was up, and she sat there with her frustration, wishing that she hadn't blind sided General Oliver back at the Dam. This bastard was probably furious about losing the Mojave, and she was the one responsible.

"Do you know what kind of praise I'll get for turning in the Courier?" Rogers asked her. "I'll be a god among men."

"Akatosh, Dibella, Mara, Arkay, Talos…" Michel whispered furiously, attempting to contact his gods in any way. "I need to find the Chosen One. I need a way out of this."

"What the fuck are saying, boy?" Rogers asked the Dragonborn.

The Nord ignored the man's question. His stomach growled from lack of food, and his throat ran dry. He needed to let go of his earthly needs. He needed to find a way to let go of this Earth. Magnus was in Atherius, and getting his energy from there to Tamriel was already a stretch… But getting it here. Impossible.

Michel exhaled and inhaled, concentrating on his breathing. Anyway that he could get his hands on some energy would be helpful right now.

"Listen," Zoe bargained. "I'm sure you've heard what I've done… What I'm capable of. I'm the biggest help, or threat, since the Vault Dweller, and if you really think that you idiots will be able to hold me all the way back to Shady Sands, you're wrong!"

"We don't need to hold you 'till the capital, miss. All I've gotta do is get you five miles east to New Reno, and then wait for the military escort to arrive and bring you back themselves. And New Reno is only five miles east. It ain't that far," he told her.

_Magnus, help me! I need to feel you. I need your energy_, Michel prayed.

"And what about my friend here?" Zoe asked Rogers.

_Inhale_, Michel thought.

"He'll be tried as an accomplice to a terrorist and a traitor."

_Exhale._

"He isn't even NCR though!" she begged. A tear rolled down her face as she realized the reality of the situation.

_Fire_, he prayed. _I need fire!_

"Even better," the Leiutenant said. "That means I don't have to put him through the system." Rogers reached into his belt holster, and revealed his revolver. He lifted his hands and pointed the gun at the Dovakiin. Zoe closed her eyes.

Suddenly fire burst forth from the Dragonborn's palms, instantly incinerating that rope binds that held him. Rogers leapt back in surprise, and Michel opened his eyes to face the soldier. As Zoe opened her eyes, she fell witness to her friend setting ablaze to man. Fire burst onto the Leiutenant like ants, and ate him alive.

Michel quickly set Zoe free, as she stammered in shock, "How did you…? What the hell? I don't understand."

"C'mon, Zoe! We have to get our supplies," he urged her off the ground.

"You weren't lying! You're really a hero. Oh my god, we're going to fight a dragon," she said, more so talking to herself than to him.

The Dragonborn stepped out of the tent, and faced an army of five men, staring him down. Their guns immediately rose into the air, and the group looked as if they would fire any second.

On the second before they let loose a rain of bullets, the Dovakiin shouted: "FUS RO DAH!" The sky rang with fury, and the air struck down with a mighty wind. Desert dust blew forward, and the bullets propelling forward sprang back in surprise, along with the men. The backwards bullets punctured the soldiers, going through their stomachs and killing them before they hit the ground.

Zoe stood behind the hero in awe, the dried tears becoming ones of joy and relief at the fact that they were free, they knew were Reno was, and that they had power on their side.

"What was that?" she asked him with a huge grin on her face.

"That was a Th'um. The voice of a dragon," he explained.

With that he was off, quickly searching the tents for their armor and weapons, not that he'd need it anymore. The Aedra hadn't abandoned him. His world wasn't unreachable, and he knew this because the magic had been able to reach him.

As he got dressed, he told Zoe, "Now let's get to Arroyo."


	9. Chapter 9

**So sorry this chapter has taken so long. I've been working on four projects that are all due next week, and I've started writing a novel. So if this chapter seems a little rushed, it's because I didn't have a lot of time to write to it.**

**Hope you like it anyway. Thanks for reading. And REVIEW.**

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After the pair had looted everything they could from the campsite, they travelled onward to New Reno. Zoe felt more confident – and more terrified! – in this journey as ever, feeling that if they ever did make it to Arroyo, there had to be some way for them to find this Sovngarde. She had taken a sudden interest in Skyrim, asking Michel all about the magnificent cites of stone and grasslands that spread across the province. From his description, when he talking about the fearsome enemies found throughout the dungeons (what the hell were Draugr?), the land sounded beautiful.

She looked around in disgust at the wasteland, and continued to be more affectionate towards "her hero" as ever, quite unusual for her actually. Craig Boone had often complained about her cold shoulder that she gave guys, and she could tell he was somewhat heartbroken when she didn't allow him to come to Arroyo. He had loved her since he met her, comparing her to Clara in his mind… She put Boone out her head. She was with Michel, after all.

The wasteland began to sound more appealing again when they came to New Reno. A city of sin and lust that, while not as glamorous as New Vegas, made it pale over in comparison to size. On every corner, prostitutes lined the streets.

"Hey, Steel," a girl called from across the street, referring to Michel's armor, "You wanna taste? You can bring your girlfriend if you want to."

The two walked through the city, attempting to find any sort of general store. Zoe made Michel stop at New Reno Arms, and she purchased some new magazines for Maria, the handgun she had obtained months ago from Benny, and her Hunting Rifle.

They eventually were able to find some supplies to buy, spending the large portion of their money. "Shit," Zoe told him, "We only have 50 caps left, Michel."

"Why do we need money when we aren't stopping until Arroyo?" he asked her.

Sighing from worry, she said, "You're right… I guess.

The pair sat laughing in the Shark Club. Gamblers lined the main floor, attempting to ignore the comedian that was up stage. The "comedian's" act was apparently so terrible, that an electric fence lined the stage to prevent anyone from getting to him. The scent of alcohol protruded from all corners of the room.

As Michel attempted to hold his liquor – which he had actually become quite skilled at ever since meeting Sanguine – Zoe went to the main floor to gamble a little. Checking her Pip-Boy stats made her confident in the face of such risks and she was happy to see that it still registered her Luck as an 8.

"You gon' join the game, wide ride?" the dealer asked Zoe as she eyed the table.

In her best preppy cheerleader voice, the disgusted Courier said, "Okay!" Proceeding to the table, she saw they were playing Texas Hold 'Em. She was dealt two cards: an ace and king of spades.

She placed down ten caps to match the bid on the table, and everyone called. As the first card was flipped over, she saw it was it was a 10 of spades. One of the gamblers folded, and the one of the remaining two put down sixty caps.

She eyed him, and said, "I call your bluff. I'll raise you the key to Bon Vivante suite."

The gambler raised his brow, and asked, "You mean in the Ultra Luxe, in Vegas? How much is that even worth?"

She shrugged, and said, "Let's just say two thousand."

The gambler's jaw almost dropped. He looked at his cards, and after thinking for a long time, put down the chips to match her.

Placing down another key, she said, "I'll raise it."

"What the hell is that?"

"The key to the Sierra Madre," she told him.

"C'mon, missy. This ain't a time for fairy tales. Bet something real."

She placed down another key, with a big 6 of spades on front. "The Lucky 38," she said.

The gambler looked up, and his eyes widened. "The Lucky 38… You're the fucking Courier!" he screamed. As the man reached for his weapon, an arrow went soaring through the air and out the back of his head. Blood dripped onto the floor, and he fell backwards like a rock.

Zoe looked back to make eye contact with Michel, and she smiled at him. After picking up the man's bet, she noticed all eyes were on her and the Dovakiin. Playing it off, she walked over to the front desk, and told the man, "Sir, what's the largest suite available?"

The man, having just seen the person murdered, looked nervously around the room. The body guards remained in their positions, and the employee stuttered, "We have a suite with a master bedroom, as well as complimentary dinner and jet."

Zoe chuckled, and said, "Just send up some booze."

Turning to face her friend, she wrapped her arms around his, and strutting across the room, whispered, "Let's go, Michel."


	10. Chapter 10

**Woo, haven't uploaded a new chapter in 20 days. Sorry guys. Been sick and stuff. Hope you like it and please review!**

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Michel awoke upon a mattress that was comparable to the one he had experienced while staying in the Lucky 38. He noticed all of the covers that were astray across the bed spread, and looked over to his right. Almost as if he wasn't surprised (he was pretty drunk last night!) there lay Zoe, on her back, sleeping next to him. His left arm was under his neck, wrapped around his slender, yet oddly powerful, arm. Her chest heaved up as she breathed, which made her breasts collapse and spill to her sides.

Michel sighed, wondering what he would do once they got to Sovngarde. Would Zoe be able to come with him to Skyrim? Would she even want to? And if she did, what would Aela the Huntress, his wife, do?

Speaking of his wife, Michel thought, what about my lycanthropy. If needed, could he turn into a werewolf? Where ever he was, it certainly wasn't Tamriel, and that raised the question if the same diseased could even survive. Perhaps he had been cured and hadn't even known it?

Michel sat up, waking Zoe in the process.

"Good morning," he said.

She wiped her eyes and bounced up when she saw him, a big grin on her face, "Good morning," she cooed.

"How far until-" he began.

"Ah, ah," she put her finger over his mouth, and he kissed it. "No talking about work. Why don't we take our time packing up today, and we can talk about Arroyo on the way there?"

"Very good," the Dragonborn said, getting out of bed.

"Did you enjoy last night?"

"Very much," he said, his voice sounding hearty and… Vikingish, something Zoe just couldn't get over. "You?"

"Eh, had better," she teased.

Michel, as promised, took his time getting ready to leave. He enjoyed the clothing that the casino had in the closet, and decided it would be better to wear under his armor than the burlap he had been previously wearing. He learned how to fasten a modern belt, and then proceeded to look socks to go under his boots, something Zoe had suggested.

He decided to go through Zoe's pack while she was scrimmaging through ammo, figuring she had plenty of socks. While looking through the bag, he came across something rather peculiar, a blue jumpsuit. It was decorated with yellow here and there, mostly around the waist and upper torso. On the back it had three large numbers – 101.

"Zoe, what is this?"

She turned around, still in her underwear, and her face turned to a frown.

"That's, uh, a memory," she said, as her voice faded.

"Is it painful?" he asked her.

"Just… distant. And yeah, I guess it is," she told him.

"What is it?"

"I, uh, came from somewhere other than Vegas. I might be a citizen of the NCR, but that was after I got to the Mojave in the first place. That 101 there, is the name of a place where I grew up. One day my father decided to pick up and leave, and the people I'd always known, tried to kill me. I escaped, and helped the people out around there, but eventually I decided I had to leave… so I went west," she explained.

Michel's face was plain.

"It's fine," she said. "I wouldn't expect you to understand having to leave your home."

"Zoe," he told her, "I left Skyrim, to save the world. Only to end up here in the middle of the fucking desert."

"But you didn't leave because you had to!"

"From what it sounds like, you didn't have to either. If you were doing good deeds, everyone must've loved you. I still had to do my final deed. I was the one who did HAVE to leave," he told her. "Now let's go."

The two were out of Reno within the hour, heading northwest to reach Arroyo. When it hit nightfall, Michel impressed Zoe by shouting fire onto their campfire. Far off in the distance, the lights could be made out of the city. From what they could tell, it was massive, spanning at least five thousand residents.

And one of those was the Chosen One.


	11. Chapter 11

**So I'm getting a lot of favorites, but no one except kogouma (thanks, btw) really reviews. C'mon guys!**

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Michel still didn't understand this world's customs. As they walked through the city, Zoe insisted on gripping his palm, refusing to relinquish it when he attempted to pull away. Eventually, due to Michel's questions about the whole institution of "holding hands" and the sweltering desert heat making their palms sweaty, she just decided walking next to each other was fine. Every once and a while, when she was with Michel, her thoughts would drift back to Boone.

She hadn't had the heart to tell him when she left for Arroyo. Ever since Carla had died he had just let his mind try and find a replacement… something that he could treat as a nice, little wife that would stick to him like glue. Problem was Zoe had bigger ambitions that staying in Novac, and though she agreed to travel with him, she always had her eyes on running New Vegas.

It actually wasn't hard to find the Chosen One. After getting some lunch, they asked around and were directed to the Temple of Trials. Apparently, it was some old relic that was built some time after 2162. The place was filled with radscorpions and other beasts that would test the young adventurers that wished to prove themselves. It had fallen into less use since the development of Arroyo, though the Chosen One still used it as his headquarters.

Michel made sure to learn everything about this hero. Apparently, he used to be the Village Elder, after his mother had retired. This was after he had saved the village, and made a reputation for himself in the NCR, of course. Once the village was accepted into the NCR, and started to grow, he became the Mayor, or as those who didn't quite agree with the government called him, the military governor. He'd been in power for forty years, and was sixty one years old.

"You ready, Michel?" Zoe asked him as they headed towards the temple.

"Of course. I am sure that he will have heard of my exploits in Tamriel. He will be more than willing to help."

"Listen," Zoe said, stopping him. "I believe you about your home land and all that. But I'm certain wherever that is… it doesn't share space with this area," she told him, gesturing to the Earth around her.

"You mean this is a different plane?" he asked.

"Wha… Listen, all I'm saying is that don't expect him to know anything about your dragon. Some pretty wacky stuff happens out in the wasteland, but I'm pretty sure someone would have heard of that."

Michel looked upward to the temple on the hill, and then said, "I am certain that this hero will lead me to the world-eater."

The group continued through the city, and stopped as they approached the large structure. Zoe looked for some mechanism to knock or alert to their presence, though Michel charged straight through the door, forcing them open with a mighty Thu'um. As she chased after him to slow down, she saw an old, decrepit man sitting in front of shrine. Attached to large suspenders was a Vault-Tech Vault 13 suit… perhaps the only one still in existence.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" the elder asked them. His back was still turned, and his head was bowed downward. "It was my grandfathers, and mine for a short while. It hasn't been worn in forty years. I've been waiting to bestow it upon a hero."

The two were silent, before Zoe spoke up, "Mr. Chosen One-"

"Please," the man said, getting up, "Call me Maxxy."

"Maxxy?" Zoe asked him.

"Eh, Maximillion. But that's so strange who has time for that. Besides, it's not like you're trying to butter me up to sell me something, now are you? No. That's right. You want information. Some sort of questing, am I right… Courier?" he babbled on.

"This is my companion-" Michel began.

"Girlfriend, actually…" she murmured.

"…And I am on a quest to vanquish Alduin, the world-eater. He is the dragon foretold at the end of the Elder Scrolls, and I am the Dragonborn who must slay him. Upon leaving Skuldafn, I was transported to this world. I presume that it is a different plane; I must find a way to reach Sovngarde," he explained.

"Well, sonny, that sounds pretty serious. Now, I don't know what any of it means, but if you could find some way to prove this to me I would be glad to help in any way possible," Maxxy told him.

Almost instantly, Michel extended his arm and blasted fire onto the floor. The Chosen One leaped in surprise, and a look of disbelief crossed his face. "Well, now that's the proof I was looking for!"

"How will I reach Sovngarde?"

"Well, I don' know anything 'bout that, but I was transported back in time and across great distances by a portal," the Chosen One started. "It's called the Guardians of Forever. I reckon it could get you where you need to go."

"You can't be serious?!" Zoe exclaimed.

"Missy, I'm dead serious. Now, come sit with me and tell me 'bout this dragon of yours," Maxxy told the pair.

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**So, if you played Fallout 2 this was probably more entertaining for you.**

**Basically, what the Chosen One (the main character in Fallout 2) is talking about is called the Guardians of Forever. It is a reference to Star Trek, but in the game it is a giant stone portal that is a random encounter. It sends you back in time where you break the water chip in Vault 13, which if you know anything about Fallout 1, then it sets the whole game in motion. If you haven't played Fallout 1, 2, and Tactics, I recommend buying them. You can get all three for like nine bucks from Interplay.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you for reading. Pleas review!**

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"You're fucking kidding me, Michel, right?!" Zoe hollered to him as they left the city of Arroyo. The pure insanity of this mission seemed to echo out to her. She had done crazy things, like breaking into the Sierra Madre. That had been a suicide mission! The only reason she did it was because she had been forced to, but even though it was difficult it was at least possible. Travelling back in time? A giant stone portal? This was ludicrous. And worst of all, after travelling for weeks, they had finally reached Arroyo, and now were leaving without even a day's rest.

"Why would I joke? We've just been told how to reach Alduin. Isn't that a goal of this quest?" he asked her. All this time he kept his face forward, walking into the vast desert. Zoe scurried up next to him, where she was able to not feel ignored.

"You honestly believe in time travel?"

"Maybe not in a traditional sense that you are looking for, but I have been transported between locations on multiple locations. I once was transported into the depths of the Black Star. Another time I was sent back in time, more of an observer than anything else, to witness the first defeat of Alduin. Another, I was trapped inside the mind of a deceased, insane monarch. So if the Chosen One says that this portal can transport us to Sovngarde, then I shall choose to believe him," he said.

"Listen, Michel," Zoe pleaded. "I don't know how things work in Skyrim, but this is not the same place! You-"

"So you're telling me," he interrupted, "That you have never encountered anything that seemed far fetched."

Immediately as he said this, she remembered the Big Mountain Transportalponder. How could she have been so stupid to discount teleportation when she had that thing sitting in her backpack?

"Okay," she said, calming down. "If you really want to, we'll check out this portal thingy. But you have to promise me… if it doesn't work that we go back to New Vegas, and we forget this ever happened."

Michel sighed; thinking of what awaited him in Skyrim. There was glory and honor, the right to fulfill his destiny. And there was Aela, in Solitude right, waiting for him to return to her. She had moved away from the Companions to be with him, and if he just decided to give up and never return to her… what kind of man would he be? Would he have any honor left?

The Dragonborn looked into Zoe's eyes, and knew that he needed her to survive out here. He knew nothing of the geography or the culture or the people. So reluctantly, he lied, "Of course we will."

She curled the end of her lip into a sad smile and gave him a quick kiss.

The pair walked southeast for a couple hours and continually looked at Zoe's Pip-Boy, making sure that they were heading in the right direction. They kept turning around as they passed the location of the portal, heading forward, and then turned back around.

Finally, Zoe exclaimed, "See?! There's nothing here!"

Michel exhaled, and thought about everything Maxxy had told them. He remembered their parting, and how he had been given the Vault 13 jumpsuit. Why did the elderly hero think he would need that when he had his armor?

"I think it has something to do with the jumpsuit," he told her.

"What?"

"The Vault-Tech suit that belonged to the Vault Dweller, who is, in your world, the greatest of heroes. Maxxy told us that when he was wearing the jumpsuit, the portal appeared to him and sent him a journey that was necessary for his destiny… I think we need to leave. I need to put on the jumpsuit, and then we'll return," he told her.

The exasperated Zoe muttered, "Fine. But after this can we go home?"

"Of course," the lied again. So they left, walking about ten minutes from the sight, and then Michel took of his armor and changed into the Vault 13 jumpsuit.

"It's not going to work, you know," she told him, as they walked back

"Why are you so against believing in this?" he asked her.

"The only teleportation I've ever seen was because of advanced pre-war technology. The thing that the Chosen One described is just madness," Zoe explained.

They walked in silence towards the site, neither of them to keen on talking to each other. As they approached the location, Michel noticed a glint of light peaking over the horizon. He began to walk faster, and within the minute the structure was in view.

The Guardians of Forever was a massive stone arch that seemed to sprout out of the ground. There was no portal of magical energy emitting from the inside, just a black space that you could see through the side. It was like an archway you'd see on a palace entrance. Just more archaic and primitive.

Zoe didn't speak, too amazed at the fact that it was there. Her mind attempted to find some way to explain it. This couldn't have just been built. They were only gone for twenty minutes!

Michel motioned her over, and she was surprised to see that she hadn't even noticed he had moved forward. The pair stood in front of the portal, and the entire world seemed to shake as Michel stepped forward. Embracing his destiny, the courageous Dragonborn leaped through the stone, and disappeared from view.

Zoe almost fell back in surprise.

Finally, she saw a way to complete this journey. She stepped through the portal.


	13. Chapter 13

**So, for this chapter I did some research and most of the dialogue is from the actual game. This will also be the case in Chapter 14.**

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Zoe felt herself drop a short distance from the sky, landing flat on her stomach. It wasn't a particularly soft landing, as just below her was a stone pathway that jetting out from the rocky grassland surrounding it. She groaned in pain as she stood, attempting to regain her balance. Immediately, she felt a securing hand wrap around her, helping her up.

"We've made it," Michel said from behind her, as he retracting his arms. "This is Sovngarde. Alduin should be here."

Zoe exhaled in surprise and exhaustion, and looked around wildly for the oncoming dragon. All that developed was a wary mist that swept across the ground view. In the sky, there was a gorgeous portal-like entrance that was surrounding by majestic colors of blue and purple.

From the mist in front of them, there came a burly man dressed in wolf skins. His eyes widened as he saw them, and then exclaimed, ""Dragonborn, even in death you dog my steps? How come you're here? The king of this realm will cast you out - cursed be your name by all sons of Skyrim, with scorn unceasing."

"Galmar Stone-Fist," Michel stepped forward, extending his hand. "An honor."

"Honor?" the outraged Nord yelled, "You killed me, and dethroned Ulfric, the rightful heir to the throne. How dare you insult me with courtesies?!"

"Friend," Michel said, "I am sorry that it came to that; however you, who worship Talos the almighty, dare refuse to acknowledge the power of the Empire which he founded?"

"The Empire is flawed and decrepit! You know as well as I do that Martin Septim was the last of the dragon blood, and yet the Empire continues to rule in our lands!" Galmar argued.

"Like the Nords took the land of Markarath from the Forsworn?" Michel stated plainly. "Besides, I have the dragon blood, and if all goes according to plan they will return to the throne," he said with some deep foreshadowing to the Stormcloak.

They passed beyond him, and Zoe decided to remain silent on the matter. She could ask Michel all about whatever that was later. Right now, they had a dragon to defeat. And she had her guns, so she felt pretty confident about it.

As the made their way down the path, they heard a whoosh overhead and the screams of man. Zoe prepared her FIDO, but Michel signaled to lower the weapon. As long as they weren't loud, they could reach the Hall of Valor and get the help of heroes in their battle.

Beyond a small hill, there was Tsun, the guardian to the hall. The spine of a dead dragon made the bridge that connected the two land masses, and Tsun nodded a polite greeting as they approached.

"What brings you, wayfarer grim, to wander here, in Sovngarde, souls-end, Shor's gift to honored dead?" Tsun asked.

"I pursue Alduin, the world-eater," Michel answered.

"A fateful errand. No few have chafed to face the Worm since first he set his soul-snare here at Sovngarde's threshold. But Shor restrained our wrathful onslaught - perhaps, deep counseled, your doom he foresaw." He replied.

Michel chose not to respond too strongly, simply stating, "Then I seek entrance to the Hall of Valor."

"No shade are you, as usually here passes, but living, you dare the land of the dead. By what right do you request entry?" Tsun asked.

"By right of birth. I am Dragonborn," the hero said,

Tsun smiled, and then chuckled, "Ah! It's been too long since last I faced a doom-driven hero of the dragon blood."

Michel nodded with a smile, but Zoe asked, "Can we enter the Hall of Valor then?"

Tsun responded by saying, "Not you, huntress, though living or dead, by decree of Shor, none may pass this perilous bridge 'till I judge them worthy by the warrior's test."

Michel exhaled and proceeded to raise his hands. Tsun reached into his pack, and retrieved an axe with which to battle the Dragonborn. The Dovakiin quickly reacted, and blasted the guardian with four short spurts of Incinerate, before the warrior could even reach him, and with that, he was granted access.

"Zoe" he said as he stepped onto the bridge, "Wait for me here. Stay close to Tsun and try not to be killed by Alduin."

Zoe's throat choked up, and she yelled, "I love you!"

Michel did not answer, already charging into the hall.

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**Please review, and thanks for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14

The Dragonborn stood proud as the massive doors to the Hall of Valor slammed behind him. To his knowledge of Nordic folklore and tradition, no living being had ever entered this hold place for the heroes of Skyrim. The hall was a large and welcoming structure that stretched wildly across his left and right. A dining table was lined with an everlasting banquet that sought to quench the mouths of the brave.

It didn't take long after he entered for a burly man to approach him. This man was clothed in iron armor that covered the majority of his torso, arms, and legs. What was left over was an under-layer of fur, which would've kept him warm in the frigid temperatures of Skyrim. Blonde hair drenched down his face and head, and somehow, Michel knew that this man was Ysgramor himself.

"Welcome, Dragonborn! Our door and stood empty since Alduin first set his soul-snare here. By Shor's command we sheathed our blades and ventured not the vale's dark mist. But three await your word to loose their fury upon the perilous foe. Gormlaith the Fearless, glad-hearted in battle; Hakon the Valiant, heavy-handed warrior; Felldir the Old, far-seeing and grim," the legendary hero told him.

Almost too intimidated to talk, the Dragonborn slinked away, and made his way over to the heroes he recognized from his viewing of the Elder Scroll. The Nord didn't even have to speak, for when he approached the three burst into joy and began to exclaim shouts of fury.

"At long last! Alduin's doom is now ours to seal - just speak the word and with high hearts we'll hasten forth to smite the worm wherever he lurks," Gormlaith boomed.

"Hold, comrades - let us counsel take before battle is blindly joined. Alduin's mist is more than a snare - its shadowy gloom is his shield and cloak. But with four voices joined, our valor combined, we can blast the mist and bring him to battle," the old man explained to the group.

"Felldir speaks wisdom - the World-Eater, coward, fear you, Dragonborn. We must drive away his mist, shouting together, and then unsheathe our blades in desperate battle with our black-winged foe," Hakon said in agreement.

The group began to draw their weapons, eager to exit the hall. Michel began to open his mouth to say something in their name, though Gormlaith interrupted, exclaiming, ""To battle, my friends! The fields will echo with the clamor of war, our wills undaunted."

Michel, feeling that he would be cheated of his destiny if he stayed behind, spurred flames from his hands, and charged after the threesome, yelling with cries of war. As he exited, he saw his girlfriend, Zoe, waiting for him with concern on her face, something he didn't see in the confident, powerful woman very often.

"Michel, is it happening yet?!" she shouted.

His throat choked up, and he nodded across the bridge. He made his way across the backbone of the dragon, where Zoe leaped into his arms. He gave her a hug, and then relinquished, letting her know to prepare for what was about to happen.

From a few feet away, the pair heard Felldir shout, "We cannot fight the foe in this mist!"

As everyone looked around, they saw the expansive cloud of mist that blocked their view of the battle. Gormlaith bellowed, "Clear Skies – Combine our Shouts!"

The four Nords erupted with draconic words, "LOK VAH KOOR!"

The sky began to clear, when suddenly – "VEN MUL RIIK!"

Alduin's cries brought the mist spreading over the area again. "We can shatter his power if we Shout together!" Felldir advised again.

"LOK VAH KOOR!"

"VEN MUL RIIK!"

Hakon, in frustration, shouted, "Does his strength have no end? Is our struggle in vain?"

"Stand fast! His strength is failing! Once more, and his might will be broken!" Gormlaith said.

"His power crumbles - do not pause for breath!" Felldir boomed.

The four shouted again, and from over the incline, they saw Alduin rise into the air. Their faces changed into that of determination, as they began to attempt to bring Alduin to the ground. The dragon was nothing like Zoe had ever seen. Her face contorted in a strange mixture of responsibility and terror, as she attempting to decide what to do.

Michel was throwing balls of fire into the air, hoping to strike the beast in mid-flight, while the others were shouting strange words into the air that emitted waves of purple air.

Fire reigned from the sky as the dragon attempted to kill the heroes that opposed him. He refused to land and face them on the ground, for he knew that this would be his end. Every projectile or spell that was cast into the sky missed, as the beast flew with amazing speed.

Zoe watched the battle from the bridge, and a look of fear ran across her face as she saw Alduin's attention turn towards her. Fire erupted into the sky as the dragon bellowed with fury, and then it began to fly in her direction.

Thinking quickly, she remembered she wasn't defenseless. In fact, she had more of a chance than almost anyone here. The Courier scurried over her pack, laying forgotten a couple of feet over. Quickly emptying out the excess weapons, such as the rifles and handguns, she located the heavy artillery. Michel looked in awe as Zoe pulled forth from her bag something that he had never even imagining…

The Fat Man.

With one click of a trigger, a large circular, nuclear device emitted from the Fat Man, and slammed into Alduin with tremendous fury. The explosion was tremendous, as the nuclear blast combined with the vanquished of the dragon's exterior. His soul poured out of him, as it spread across the land of Sovngarde. Everyone outside shielded their eyes, save for Michel, who stared at the beast in anger.

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**Hey, I know this was two weeks after the last chapter. I am sorry for the short hiatus, but I was incredibly with lacrosse two weeks ago, and was in Florida all last week. I'll try to do better. Thanks for your understanding.**


	15. Chapter 15

"That was a mighty deed! The doom of Alduin encompassed at last, and cleansed is Sovngarde of his evil snare. They will sing of this battle in Shor's hall forever. But your fate lies elsewhere. When you have completed your count of days, I may welcome you again, with glad friendship, and bid you join the blessed feasting," Zoe heard as she uncovered her eyes.

She smiled, and looked over, expecting to see Tsun, the guardian to the Hall of Valor, congratulating Michel on his victory over Alduin. Instead, she saw the furious face of her friend, and when she turned her head, saw Tsun facing her with arms raised.

"What?" she said perplexed.

"You have vanquished Alduin, the world-eater, with your reign of fire," he said.

"Zoe!" Michel roared. "How could you do this to me?! I am Dragonborn, yet you seek to steal my honor and place in legend?"

The look of hurt and anger was something she had never seen in the determined, almost emotionless person she had come to know. Up until now, all she had seen of this man was an unending quest to kill this dragon… and his naked body of course.

"No," Zoe repeated over and over. She turned to Tsun, pleading, "I didn't do it! I mean, I didn't mean for this to happen. He's the hero, not me!"

Tsun shook his with a smile, and then proclaimed, being joined in with the other heroes, "All hail the Dragonborn! Hail her with great praise!"

Her face turned into one of worry. Tears streamed down her face as Michel's affection turned to hatred and spite, and she knew that she had just gotten herself into something she had never even anticipated.

Before she could even say anything, the guardian spoke: "Return now to Nirn, with this rich boon from Shor, my lord: a Shout to bring a hero from Sovngarde in your hour of need…"

Michel screams of anger manifested, as his form began to change. His armor was plucked from his body and fur sprouted across his arms, spreading to his chest and face. A tail sprouted from his back, and he grew to at least eight feet in size! Zoe sobbed as her love turned into the fearsome werewolf he could become.

She screamed pleads to let Michel take the glory… that he was the Dragonborn, not her, but Sovngarde faded around her as Tsun shouted: "NAAL DAAL VUS!"

Zoe closed her eyes, and when they burst open she was facing a large dragon, appearing as if it was reading her soul. It then opened its mouth and said, ""So, it is done. Alduin dilon. The Eldest is no more, he who came before all others, and has always been. I see that the Dovakiin has not returned, but a new hero."

"No… no, Michel was supposed to destroy him. Alduin should've died at his hands. He brought it upon himself!" she cried.

"Zeymahi lost ont du'ol Barmahu. Alduin was once the crown of our father Akatosh's creation. You did what was necessary. Alduin had flown far from the path of right action in his pahlok - the arrogance of his power. But I cannot celebrate his fall. Zu'u tiiraaz ahst ok mah. He was my brother once. This world will never be the same. Of course. Alduin nahlaan daanii. It does not matter who ended the tyranny, all that matters is that he is put to rest," the dragon said.

"I- I was just trying to fulfill Michel's destiny. Help him, you know?"

"Indeed, you saw more clearly than I - certainly more clearly than Alduin.  
Rok funta koraav. Perhaps now you have some insight into the forces that shape the vennesetiid... the currents of Time. But I forget myself. Krosis. So los mid fahdon. Melancholy is an easy trap for a dovah to fall into. You have won a mighty victory. Sahrot krongrah- one that will echo through all the ages of this world for those who have eyes to see. Savor your triumph, hero. This is not the last of what you will write upon the currents of Time."

"Bu-" the desperate Courier shouted.

She was halted as Paarthurnax leaped from the stone wall and ascended into the air. He exclaimed, "Goraan! I feel younger than I have in many an age."

Zoe looked around, as other dragons joined into his flight, circling above the wall. Paarthurnax said, "Many of the dovah are now scattered across Keizaal. Without Alduin's lordship, they may yet bow to the vahzen... rightness of my Thu'um." He paused, and then faced Zoe, saying, "But willing or no, they will hear it! Fare thee well, Courier!"

Zoe stood awestruck, at the wise old, seemingly all-knowing drago… er, dovah. She began to turn in circles, gazing out into the expanse beyond the Throat of the World, and gulped as she realized one thing…

She was in Skyrim.

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**Please give feedback. I hope you enjoyed it.**


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